What we call the ‘modern’, and distinctly Western, sensibility emerged as people tried to organise the conduct of the sciences in light of second-order condsiderations of what might be common to all the sciences. The result was a Galilean zeal for spotting latent contradictions between bodies of knowledge, the pretext for eliminating the social, lingusitic and practical barriers to their proper integration into one system of thought. Popper promoted a version of this strategy in his attack on the ‘myth of the framework’, the Kuhnian idea that the presence of incommensuarable theories rendered any explicit normative comparison so difficult that one simply had to wait for history to take its course, as individuals come to adopt one or another theory for their own reasons. In contrast, Popper argued that if the incommensurable theories are truly scientific, they aspire to universality, which means that there will be cases that they have yet to explain or predict. These cases may then serve as relatively neutral ground for designing a crucial experiment to decide amonst the theories.*
I’m reading Steve Fuller’s truly interesting account of ‘The Struggle for the Soul of Science,’ the legendary debate between Kuhn and Popper. Although I enjoy the book, I cannot help but marvel at the dense style Fuller, and many in his field, pledge to. I wrote an essay once, on what I’ve late learned is known as the underdetermination hypothesis (data can be explained by any number of mutually incompatible theories, see, f.eks. pp. 61-62 in Kuhn vs. Popper). I wrote rather dense myself, I seem to remember (I’ll post an example if I can dig it up). I wonder if a complicated style is necessary to philosophy of science, if it is impossible to iron it out more, if it’s somehow inherent to the subject. Philosophy of science is, in a weird way, depending on itself for its own existence. (See; I came up with something rather dense just writing about how dense it is!)
* Steve Fuller (2003), Kuhn vs. Popper, pp. 66-67, Icon Books 2006 edition.